Red vs Blue: Relocated
by BentleyGirl
Summary: A novelization of the mini-series that took place between Reconstruction and Recreation. Please read Reconstruction to understand this. Also please read and review. UPDATED! Rated T for swearing
1. Part 1

**So December 21, 2012 has come and gone and as I had hoped, the world has not been hit by a meteor or invaded by aliens or any of that nonsense. So as I promised, I will now post the next Red vs. Blue novelization.**

**Quick reminder that I don't own the rights to Halo or Red vs. Blue; they belong to their respective owners who I'm sure you already know.**

**So let's get cracking!**

* * *

Chapter 1

On a distant planet far from Earth, on the edge of some snow-capped mountains, there is a valley known as Valhalla. For some years, the two armies, Red and Blue, had done battle for reasons not really made clear. But then one day, a Pelican-class drop ship had crash-landed in the valley, bringing some unknown force that had all but wiped out the two teams. A Recovery force had arrived days later to investigate but they encountered some great threat as well and had pulled out. So the valley was silent for some time. But now, both bases at Valhalla had each received new members, from the same teams as the first batch and the peace was about to be interrupted…

On a rocky spire in the middle of the valley, two members of the Red Team, one wearing orange-colored armor and the other in maroon armor, stood and surveyed the scene. For a while, they were silent… then the orange soldier removed his helmet, took in a lungful of air and let it out in a great sigh. "I'm telling you, this is a whole new world for us. New bases, new armor; it's a fresh start."

"Then, why the fuck are we having the same conversations?" Simmons scowled.

"Just think," Grif said as they made their way down to the lake next to the Red Base. "You know how people say 'If I knew then what I know now?' Well, that person _is_ you, and you already know it. And the 'then' is right now."

Simmons stared at him in bafflement. "What?"

"Don't you regret _anything_ from our last assignment, like all your mistakes?"

"_I_ didn't make mistakes, _you_ made mistakes."

"Exactly." Grif knelt down, placed his helmet down then picked up some pebbles from the shore. "You set too high of a bar, and that made it harder for the rest of us."

"There is no 'rest of us'," Simmons retorted. "There's _just you_ and you suck. The bar has nothing to do with it. If the bar was set any lower, you'd just hit your fucking head on it, or accidentally eat it."

Grif flicked a flattish stone out and watched it skip along the surface of the lake five times before it sank. "You need to loosen up. We got a good thing going here. I mean, this is an easy gig. We need to make the most of it. You should question authority every now and then."

"What? I question authority," Simmons stuttered.

"Asking Sarge, 'Can we have more work?' is _not_ questioning authority," Grif argued.

"Well, Grif, technically that is a question-"

"Stop it!"

"Besides," Simmons added, "all _you_ ever do is waste time."

"Waste time? I make time," Grif said. "Every second Sarge spends arguing with me is every second I don't have to do something stupid like clean our guns or whatever it is he's ever making you do."

"You dumbass," Simmons retorted. "We have to maintain our equipment. Otherwise-"

Suddenly there was a loud BOOM from behind them and Simmons and Grif spun round to see a huge column of black smoke billowing up from the back of the Base and several pieces flying past. "Oh, son of a bitch!" Sarge cried out.

"See?" Grif chuckled. "That should keep him busy for at least like-"

"Simmons, Grif, front and centre!" Sarge bellowed.

"Dammit," Grif muttered, picking up his helmet.

"Nice plan, jackass," Simmons jeered as they ran towards Sarge. "Clearly it's working flawlessly."

"Hustle up, idiots!" Sarge called.

Meanwhile at the Blue Base on the other side of the valley, the only Blue soldier was hard at work on a secret project. He searched through the building until he found an old welding torch and a welder's mask. After checking that it was still working, he went back to his project, lit the torch, put the mask over his face and set to work…

Back at Red Base, Simmons and Grif found Sarge just as he got out from under the jeep they'd called the Warthog Mk 3, his red armor stained with oil and his visor covered in black ash.

With an angry sigh, Sarge removed his helmet, picked up a cleaning chamois and began to wipe his visor clean. "Men, we've got a situation on our hands here."

"Sarge, why do you always call _us_ over when you want to talk to us?" Grif cut in.

"What, you want me to write you a letter?" Sarge sneered

"No, I-I mean there's two of us," Grif replied. "Wouldn't it be more efficient for you to come to us? Instead we always have to-"

"Shut up, Grif!"

Grif smiled at Simmons. "See, I just bought us ten more seconds before he can give us something to do."

"Grif, can it!"

"Five more seconds."

"Shut up!" Simmons snapped.

"Two more."

"We've got a problem, men," Sarge went on. "I'm trying to upgrade the Warthog's weapons system."

"The weapons system?" Simmons asked.

"Yes," Sarge replied. "As you'll recall, on our last mission, we encountered that magnetic pulse thingy. So I thought we could upgrade the Warthog to use that technology for a fancy new gun."

Simmons frowned. "You mean the pulse that knocked out our car and made it stall? _That_ technology?"

"Yes."

"You want to add that _to_ the car, _and_ activate it on a regular basis?"

"Mmhmm."

"Specifically in battle?"

"Bingo-bango."

"And you're _sure_ that's a good idea."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Don't listen to him, sir," Grif cut in eagerly. "I think it's brilliant. The enemy will never see it coming."

"That's because it won't be coming!" Simmons yelled. "It'll be shutting down every time we fire our primary weapon!"

Grif beamed. "Like I said, brilliant."

Sarge then turned to the Warthog and scratched the top of his head. "The problem is that we still don't have the power online in the base, so I'm forced to use only my hand tools. I can't get anything done like this."

"You want us to get the generators running so that you can use your power tools?" Simmons asked hopefully.

"No," Sarge replied. "So I can use the radio to call Lopez and have him come do it for me."

"Nice," Grif said. "Wait, our radios work."

"Not our helmet radios, dumbass, the long-range ones," Simmons retorted. "The people who were here before us disabled them all."

"It seems to me the Blue Base is online." Sarge pointed to the other side of the valley and Grif and Simmons looked too, in time to see a blue bolt shoot out from the top of the base into the heavens. "We need to get someone over there to see how they did it. Simmons, it'll be you."

Simmons looked puzzled. "Why me?"

"I don't think Grif could possibly figure out how electricity works," Sarge replied. "I'm not even certain he knows what it is."

"The man's right," Grif agreed. "I have no idea."

"Whatever," Simmons sighed.

"No seriously, I have no idea," Grif added. "I always thought it was some kind of invisible magic."

"Shut up," Simmons snapped, running over the hill into the valley.

"Oh and see if you can figure out what they've been up to over there," Sarge called out. "They've been pretty quiet lately."

"Fine," Simmons muttered.

Grif watched Simmons leave then he turned to Sarge. "Okay, great, now that he's gone, how 'bout we enjoy some 'us time.' Kick back, make some margaritas-"

"Grif, I need you up on top of the base," Sarge ordered. "See if you can figure out why ours isn't firing that blue bolt-a-ma-jiggy."

Grif gulped as he looked up at the base. "You mean… up there by the airlift and the flag?"

"No, I mean on top," Sarge replied, pointing upwards.

Grif craned his neck up towards the top of the tower, which was much higher than the tallest mountain in the range by the valley. "Um, do we have a ladder?"

"Oh, sure, an eight-hundred-foot ladder?" Sarge scoffed. "Of course not, ya idiot! Now get to shimmyin'."

* * *

**So all-in-all, things are pretty much the same with the Reds.**


	2. Part 2

**The next part brings a little bit of acrophobic fun.**

* * *

Chapter 2

In the valley, Simmons made his way onto a cliff and lay down to avoid being spotted. As he shuffled closer to the edge, he could see the Blue Base and a bright light shining out the doorway. He raised the sniper rifle and peered through the scope then he switched on his helmet radio.

"Come in, Sarge, come in," he reported. "I can see Blue Base but there's no one around. There's some kind of light and it looks like somebody's working on somethin'. I'll have a look closer and see if I can find anyone but I don't think that there-"

"Hello!" a voice called out.

Simmons got such a fright he almost fell over the edge. "_Jesus!_" He rolled over to see Caboose standing over him. "Don't do that!"

"Hey Simmons," Caboose said cheerfully. "Uh, were you guys coming to attack me? Uh, because I'm kinda busy right now. Do you think you could attack me later like uh, like next week?"

"We're not attacking you," Simmons replied, getting to his feet. "I'm just coming over to spy on you."

"Oh, awesome."

"And figure out how you got your power turned on."

Caboose looked puzzled then he remembered, "Oh, you mean the invisible magic, yeah. Uh, you know, it was already on when I got here. Very convenient."

"And I'm also trying to figure out what you're doing," Simmons added.

"Doing?" Caboose suddenly looked very shifty. "Nothing… There's no reason to do anything. Why would I be doing something? I wouldn't, that's why. So I'm not."

Simmons raised an eyebrow. "If you're not doing anything, then why are you too busy?"

"What?"

"You just said that we couldn't attack you right now because you were too busy."

Caboose glanced at the base for a moment then looked back. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Why?" Simmons asked. "You _are_ doing something, aren't you?"

"Ah-uh-uh, Simmons, stop being nosy," Caboose scolded, pushing the Red away. "Do you want to lose all your spying privileges?"

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Sarge watched as Grif made his slow ascent of the tower.

"Come on, Grif!" he bellowed. "Hurry it up!"

"Hey, don't rush me!" Grif yelled back, before looking away as the vertigo hit. "This is high! Shouldn't I have on safety gear or something?"

"You have armor, numbnuts! That's like having a helmet for your whole body. So stop complaining."

"No, I mean shouldn't there be like a safety rope, or at least some _railings?_"

"Grif, use your head! If we had a rope tied up there already, you could just climb up the rope! Stop askin' dumb questions."

At that moment, Simmons returned from his reconnaissance. "Hey, Sarge."

"Simmons, what did you find out?" Sarge asked.

"Well, I know their base isn't running on brain power," Simmons joked.

"Excellent!" Sarge said. "That means Grif can still be used as fuel once we get the generators turned on."

"Caboose has no idea how their power works," Simmons admitted. "He said it was already on when he got there."

"Huh, favoritism," Sarge scowled. "Command always did like them best."

"He said he'd run us an extension cord if we could find one long enough."

"No way, I'm not falling for that."

Simmons sighed. "Yeah, I had a feeling you wouldn't."

"He'd choose just the right moment to cut us off from a valuable resource!"

"A resource we don't even have access to, to begin with!" Simmons pointed out.

"That's exactly right," Sarge replied. "He wants to soften us up and then yank the carpet out from under our feet! No way. Besides, Grif's on his way to figuring out this problem as we speak."

Simmons looked around for Grif. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Up there," Sarge replied, pointing up to the tower.

"What?" Simmons looked up and spotted Grif struggling to pull himself onto a ledge. "What's he doing up there?"

"Help me Simmoooons!" Grif screamed, his feet struggling for a foothold as he dangled from the ledge. "Jesus Chrihihihist!"

"I think that blue bolt has something to do with the power and ours isn't working," Sarge explained.

"So why didn't _you_ climb up there?" Simmons cried.

"Me?" Sarge muttered. "I'm afraid of heights- I mean allergic."

"_Everyone's_ afraid of heights!" Grif yelled.

"You have a fear of heights?" Simmons asked. "Didn't you used to jump out of ships in high orbit during the War?"

"And how do you think I developed that fear?" Sarge replied. "That shit was crazy."

On the tower, Grif had made it onto the ledge but now he had a new problem. "There's a bird up here fucking with me!"

"Quit making friends and get up there!" Sarge shouted.

"Shoo, shoo!" Grif waved a hand to shake the bird off his helmet and almost lost his balance as it flew away, cawing with annoyance.

"Sarge, why didn't you just let him use the ladder?" Simmons pointed to a nearby ladder that was at least eight hundred feet tall resting by the cliff face.

"Oh right," Sarge replied slightly sheepishly. "I guess we didn't see that before he started up. My bad."

"God dammit!" Grif yelled as the bird left a big mess on his armor.

"How could you miss something that big?" Simmons cried.

"Well, what can I say Simmons?" Sarge replied with a shrug. "I guess you're a bit more observant than the rest of us."

"No kidding," Simmons sighed, rolling his eyes.

Nearby, from behind a rock, Caboose watched the activities through the scope of the sniper rifle. Satisfied that the Reds were distracted, he crept away from the rock, waded through the river and then made his way over to his next target: the crashed Pelican.

Meanwhile, Grif reached the top of the spire and called down, "Okay, I made it! I'm at the top!"

"Whaddaya see?" Sarge yelled.

"What?"

"What do you see?"

"_What do I see?_" Grif cried, wiping the bird doo off his armor. "I see everything, because I'm at the **top of the fucking world!**"

"Can you see the port where the bolt comes out?"

Grif looked round and spotted a nearby opening cluttered with metallic debris. "Yeah, it's right here, but I think it's blocked!"

"What?"

"It's blocked!"

"What's blocking it?"

Grif carefully stepped closer to have a look. "It looks like a bunch of pieces of a ship."

Sarge grimaced. "That's disgusting. Who would climb all that way up there just to do that?"

"I said shi_puh_!"

"Oh right."

"What kind of ship is it?" Simmons called.

"How the fuck should I know?" Grif replied. "It's in a million pieces. What difference does it make?"

"Sorry! I'm just naturally curious."

Grif made to lift his helmet up. "I'm gonna spit on you, Simmons!"

Sarge turned to his favorite soldier. "What do you think, Simmons?"

"Mm, it's really hard to say without seeing it," Simmons replied. "But I guess he could try to clear the blockage. I'm a little concerned though. If he clears it and that bolt goes off, it could kill him."

"That's an excellent thought," Sarge muttered. "And what was that concern you said you had?"

"Nothing, Sir," Simmons sighed.

"Alright then, let's get cracking!" Sarge shouted, clapping his hands together in eagerness. "Kill two birds with one stone. But I'd settle for one bird and a Grif, heh heh heh."

At that moment, on the spire, Grif heard a loud cawing overhead. "I said shoo, you stupid fucking bird!"

* * *

**Boy, birds sure are persistent, aren't they?**


	3. Part 3

**We now return to the unconventional repowering of Red Base.**

* * *

Chapter 3

After he'd shot the bird that kept pestering him, Grif went closer to the blocked port and examined the ship pieces.

"Grif, we're gonna need you to clear that blockage!" Sarge called up from the ground.

"How?" Grif shouted back. "These pieces are huge! How am I supposed to lift them?"

"Well, they say people in emotional situations can sometimes get superhuman strength."

"Yeah?" Grif retorted. "Well, what about people in situations where they really don't give a fuck? What kind of powers do _they_ get?"

"Grif!" Sarge bellowed.

"If you can't lift it, just try clearing it with a grenade," Simmons suggested.

Grif glanced nervously at the wreckage. "Um, is that safe?"

"None of this is safe," Simmons yelled. "You're gonna start analyzing _now?_"

"Here, Grif, take one o' mine." Sarge flung a grenade up towards Grif but it came up short and landed next to a crate before exploding and knocking it into the water.

"Sarge, you pulled the pin out!" Simmons yelled.

"Of course I did," Sarge replied. "Who throws a grenade with the pin still in? Hey Grif, catch this one."

He tossed another grenade up. This one came closer, but Grif just backed away. "No! I'm not catching those."

"Dammit," Sarge scowled. "I can't reach."

This time, the grenade bounced off the side of the base and landed next to Simmons who jumped aside just before it went off. "Ack!" he yelped. "Cut it out!"

"Yeah," Grif agreed. "Let me get back to work up here."

With that, he edged closer to the blockage, thus avoiding the rocket that Sarge had fired at him. "Did ya catch that one?"

"Okay, here we go…" Grif took a grenade off his belt, pulled out the pin and then dropped it into the debris. "Oh shit!" he suddenly realized. "Where do I go when the grenade ex-"

KABOOOOOMMMMMM! The explosion blasted the debris into little pieces, but it also sent Grif flying high into the air!

Simmons had to duck to avoid the pieces falling down but then Grif's screaming made him look up. "Oh no, he's falling!"

"I see that!" Sarge replied.

"Should we try to catch him?"

"_Catch_ him? Hell no. He'll crush us."

"What do we do?"

"I got a good idea. Let's act like we're _gonna_ catch him, then we don't. It's a win-win."

Simmons watched Grif plummet towards the ground then turned to Sarge. "You used to jump out of ships. Give him some advice!"

"Oh right." Sarge then called out, "Grif, you should never join that unit! The pay is terrible and the officer is totally disorganized!"

"Advice on how to land!" Simmons yelled.

"Oh right," Sarge muttered. "Grif, what you wanna do is-"

But as he was talking, Grif hit the ground behind them with a sickening bone-crunching SMACK!

"Try to tuck and roll at the last second," Sarge shouted. "That will transfer your momentum to inertia and invert your ker-splat probability."

"Owwww…" Grif then groaned.

Simmons looked round and spotted his teammate. "Hey Sarge, I think he's down already."

"Oh right," Sarge chuckled as he looked too. "Simmons, you are observant!"

Meanwhile in the valley, on board the wrecked Pelican, Caboose made his way to the flight deck and pressed some buttons on the computer. Behind the pilot's seat, a trapdoor slid open and Caboose climbed down into the mechanical bowels of the ship where he looked around until he spotted a glowing piece of equipment.

"There you are," he hissed. He stepped up to the equipment and got to work on the control panel nearby.

Back at Red Base, Sarge watched the tip of the spire until a blue bolt of energy shot out into the sky. As it did, he could hear the sound of machines powering up inside. "Hot ham and cheese, the power's back on!"

Simmons meanwhile examined his unconscious teammate. "Um, I think Grif is broken, Sir."

"Sad," Sarge muttered. "I always thought I would be the cause of Grif's death. Ah well, fuck it."

"Yeah, fuck it," Simmons agreed, getting to his feet.

"Let's call Lopez and tell him we've got power," Sarge said, slipping his helmet on. "Robots love that stuff."

"And oil," Simmons added.

"Stop helping me." Sarge switched on the long-distance radio and tuned it to the Blood Gulch Red Base frequency. "Come in, Lopez. Señor Lopez, come in. This is Sergeant-"

"Hola," Lopez's voice called out. "Esta es Barranco de la Sangre. Discurso de Lopez." (Hello? This is Blood Gulch Canyon, Lopez speaking.)

"Lopez, it's Sarge. Que paso, what ya doin'?" No reply came. "Lopez?"

"Uh, Me disculpo, no puedo utilizar el teléfono," Lopez said shiftily. "Deja por favor un mensaje…" (Uhhh, sorry I couldn't come to the phone. Please leave a message…)

"Lopez, you old kidder," Sarge chuckled. "Cut it out."

"…le llamaré des tras" (…And I will call you back as soon as I am able.)

"Seriously… Program, disable lying mode; voice verification Bravo niner."

"Commando acceptado," Lopez replied then he sighed, "¿Qué usted tiene?" (COMMAND ACCEPTED. Ok, what do you want?)

"I need you at the new base on the double," Sarge explained.

"¿Por qué?" (Why?)

"We got power. I need your help building something awesome. Are you busy?"

"No," Lopez admitted. "Acabo de matar a esa muchacha encima a la Base Azul. Ganamos a propósito." (Actually, not really. I just killed that girl over at Blue Base, so I'm all wrapped up here. We won by the way.)

"Great!" Sarge beamed. "Hey Simmons, we won Blood Gulch."

"Oh, cool," Simmons cheered. "Suck it Blue."

"Oh, and tell Grif his sister's dead," Sarge added.

"Yes sir!" Simmons replied then his face fell. "Wait, what?"

"OK. Estoy viniendo," Lopez sighed. (Ok, I guess I can be right there.)

"Great, we'll see you soon," Sarge replied. "I'll forward you some blueprints of what we've been workin' on."

Just then Grif gave a loud groan and slowly sat up. "What happened?" he muttered weakly.

"Grif, you're awake, good," Sarge said. "Lopez is coming here; I need you to stay out of the way."

"Uh, can do," Grif moaned, getting slowly to his feet.

"Simmons, you check the base and make sure everything is online," Sarge ordered. "Lopez is going to need all the power he can get."

"On it, Sir," Simmons replied, running inside.

Sarge then turned to the brown Spartan who had just arrived. "Lopez, you get in the base and start workin' on the plans I sent you."

"Sí," Lopez replied, grabbing his tools and dashing into the base.

Simmons passed him as he came out. "Wow, he got here _fast!_"

"Oh, and uh, Grif, one more thing," Sarge remembered. "You might wanna sit down."

"I can't sit," Grif winced, staggering over and slumping on Simmons' shoulder. "I think both my kneecaps are shattered."

"Oh, well in that case, Simmons, you'd better be prepared to catch him," Sarge told his pet private. "He'll probably faint when I tell him his sister's dead."

Grif gasped. "My sister is dead?"

"Oh, you already know!" Sarge cried. "Good, I was worried about how to break the news to you. That could've been awkward."

"No way," Grif retorted. "Not true."

"Lopez told us himself."

"Yeah right," Grif muttered.

"You don't believe it?" Simmons asked baffled.

"I'll tell you what," Grif replied. "You produce a corpse, I'll believe it."

"Huh?"

"Listen," Grif said. "Once when we were kids, we went ice-skating and she fell through the ice. She was under there for _three hours_, and when they pulled her out, not only was she still alive, she was pregnant. If you can explain that to me, I'll believe you when you tell me she's dead."

Sarge grimaced. "Hmmm, I wouldn't even know how to-"

"Hecho," Lopez called from the base's doorway. (Done.)

"Hot damn, Lopez is done already," Sarge cried. "Did you finish the-"

"Sí." (Yes.)

"Well, what about the-"

"Sí." (Yes.)

"And also the-"

"Me hacen," Lopez cut in. "Esa significa que hice todo." (I am done. That means I did everything.)

"Caliente daminito," Sarge said impressed. "Let's go check it out."

"Está aqui," Lopez replied, reentering the base. (It's over here.)

Simmons placed his arm over Grif's shoulder and half-led, half-carried him behind Sarge into the base.

Lopez led the way through the passage until he reached a double-door and then stopped by a small panel. "Prensa abajo." (Just hit the down button.)

Sarge did so and then the doors slid open to reveal a small room big enough for six people.

"You installed an elevator?" Grif asked.

"Por supuesto." Lopez stepped inside, the Reds went in after him and the doors slid shut. (Of course.)

Lopez nodded at a large control panel. "Introduzco su código." (Now enter your personalized key code.)

Sarge pressed some buttons on the keypad.

"Ponga su mano allí." (Put your hand on the scanner.)

Sarge did so and the elevator began to descend.

"Dé vuelta a esa rueda." (Now turn that crank.)

"Which one?" Sarge asked. "This one?"

"No. La rueda media." (No, the third one down, fifth one over.)

"Ah, okay." Sarge located the crank and began to turn it.

"How did he build all this?" Grif asked amazed.

"I told ya, he just needed power tools," Sarge replied.

As the elevator stopped, Lopez pointed to a button on the other side of the doors. "Prense su botón cuando empujo los míos." (Now push your button when I push mine.)

"At the same time?"

"Sí." (Yes.)

"You wanna do it like on three, or like three and then go?"

"¡Apenas agarro!" (Just push it!)

"Okay."

Sarge and Lopez pressed the buttons and the elevator descended fifty more feet before stopping and opening the doors.

"Esto es el," Lopez said, stepping out of the lift. (Here we are.)

The Reds followed him onto a walkway and found themselves staring out at a huge empty chamber as big as their old base at Blood Gulch.

"What the fuck?" Grif breathed.

"What the hell is all _this?_" Simmons gasped.

"As you know, I've been working on developing a new version of our Warthog," Sarge explained as he and Lopez stood next to a podium. "So I had Lopez here build an underground holographically powered simulation room. This is going to allow us to test the final concepts of my car design. Now check it."

Lopez pressed some buttons on the panel and a large blue grid appeared on the floor of the chamber. Then a Warthog materialized out of thin air above the grid which then disappeared.

"Okay, now that was pretty cool," Grif cried.

"Thank you," Sarge replied.

"Hey wait a second," Simmons said slowly. "So you built an entire chamber, capable of running holographic simulations, rather than just build the car itself? That doesn't seem very efficient to me."

"Simmons, sometimes you just gotta go for style points," Sarge chuckled. "Hoo-ah."

* * *

**I'm now putting holographic chamber on the list of things I want in my house.**


	4. Part 4

**And now, this mini-series comes to an end, with a bit of fun.**

* * *

Chapter 4

Sarge took a moment to give the holographic Warthog a drive around the chamber before pulling up next to his privates.

"Now this is more like it," he chuckled, climbing out the jeep. "Great job on the simulator, Lopez, and good work on the power, Simmons."

"Thank you, Sir," Simmons replied loyally.

"_Simmons?!_" Grif spluttered. "I'm the one who was almost killed just so you could get the electricity back on."

"Yep, but it was worth it," Sarge replied with a shrug.

Grif scowled at him. "You say that every time I'm almost killed."

_Flashback_

_At Blood Gulch, Sarge was giving the Warthog a polish when Simmons came running up to him._

"_Sarge, Grif was spying on the Blues and they captured him!" he panted._

"_What did he find out?" Sarge demanded. "Are they planning something?"_

"_No," Simmons cried. "They were standing around talking like always, but now they're gonna kill him!"_

_Sarge just shrugged. "Well, it was worth it."_

_Second flashback_

_Sarge wandered down the corridors, checking that the floors were shiny and the ceilings were free of cobwebs._

"_The base looks so clean, Simmons," he commended. "Excellent work."_

"_Yeah," Simmons replied, looking up from next to his coughing and gagging teammate. "It's too bad Grif was almost killed by his allergic reaction to the cleaning supplies."_

"_It was worth it," Sarge replied with a shrug._

_Third flashback_

_In the cafeteria, there was a loud explosion and Simmons and Sarge came running in to see some slightly burned sandwiches and Grif running around with his armor on fire._

_Sarge shrugged as he picked up a sandwich. "Worth it."_

_End all three flashbacks_

"Only because it's always true," Sarge argued. "There are very few tasks that wouldn't balance out by you making the ultimate sacrifice."

"At least this time we got something out of it," Simmons agreed. "We got power, _and_ a new weapon!"

"Let's test this bad boy out." Sarge leapt behind the turret and swiveled the gun round so that it was pointing right at Grif.

"Whoa, wait a second," Grif gulped, backing out of the gun's range. "Does this hologram jeep shoot hologram slugs, or real slugs?"

"As long as we are in this room, everything will seem real to us," Sarge explained. "It's all simulated, but your mind makes it real."

"Ooh, like the Matrix," Simmons breathed.

"Sí, sin toda la filosifa del este," Lopez agreed. (Right, but without all the Eastern philosophy stuff that no one understands.)

"Alright, fuck this," Grif sighed, turning around. "I'm going to stand over there."

"Guess what, dirtbag?" Sarge called out. "I don't _need_ you for target practice anymore. I've got my own holo-Grif programmed into the system already."

He waved up to Lopez who pressed a button on the panel. Then a second Grif appeared right in front of the Warthog. "Hello, I am literally the worst program ever made!"

"Sounds like someone hasn't used Google Chrome," Simmons muttered.

"Locked and loaded, ready to fire at the bloated," Sarge announced, cocking the gun. "Grif- I mean fake Grif, go stand over there."

The holo-Grif nodded and ran over to the center of the room.

"This is a magnetized propulsion system," Sarge told Simmons, taking aim with the gun. "It can fire massive slugs at an _outrageous_ velocity! Check it out."

With that, he hit the trigger and a bolt of blue energy shot out of the gun's tip and blasted the Grif double, sending him flying. "Blarg, I deserve it," he cried as he died.

At the same time, the Warthog's engine sparked and cut out. "See?" Sarge chuckled. "How awesome is _that?_"

"Wow!" Simmons gasped.

"And in 10 short seconds, it will be ready to fire again."

"That's incredible," Simmons breathed then he frowned. "Wait a minute."

"Lopez, spawn me another holo-Grif on the pronto," Sarge called up.

"Si," Lopez replied.

Grif meanwhile was staring at the spot where his holographic double was killed. "Did you guys see that?"

"Shut up, real Grif," Sarge snapped as the jeep's engine restarted. "We're doin' important research over here! Hey Simmons, check this out. I'm gonna shoot the next one in the hoo-hoo."

Lopez pressed the button and a second holo-Grif appeared. "Oh hey guys, what's going-" This one got no further before Sarge blasted him right in the face.

Meanwhile at the Blue Base, Caboose returned with the component that once held Sheila's Ai and placed it next to the Epsilon unit. He looked around at the collection of machine parts and dead Blues and an eerie smile crossed his face. "Finally, we're all here," he muttered in a creepy psychotic voice. "Now we can be together… _forever._"

Back at Red Base, Sarge was having a blast with the hologram chamber as he shot down each holo-Grif as quickly as they were spawned, until the room was almost flooded with them.

"Alright," he cheered. "Lopez, another holo-Grif."

"Esta cosa hace otras blancos," Lopez scowled. (This thing makes other targets, you know.)

"Bah, let's stick to the fundamentals," Sarge dismissed.

Once again, a holo-Grif appeared in the room and he immediately ran towards the center. "Let's get this over with."

As the jeep restarted again, Simmons thought over what his leader had told him. "Ok, Sarge, do you mean to tell me this thing fires once every 10 seconds?"

"Yep," Sarge nodded. "It's _state of the art_."

"But our last weapon fired 10,000 rounds per second," Simmons recalled.

Sarge pondered this over. "If my math is right, and I think it is, that seems like more than this one."

"Yes it is," Simmons confirmed.

"How much more would you say?"

"Well, the chain gun was 10,000 rounds per second, and this would be… 0.1 of a round per second. So yeah it was."

Sarge shot down the next holo-Grif then glanced at the gun as the jeep stalled.

The real Grif then started as he looked into the room. "I know I'm not crazy," he muttered. "I _just_ saw something move."

"It does seem to be lacking in the rapid fire department," Sarge admitted. "Oh well, a good craftsmen never blames his tools."

"But we made the tool in the first place," Simmons reminded him. "Can we blame the craftsman?"

"No Simmons," Sarge replied. "You and the gun are just gonna have to agree to disagree."

Lopez pressed a button on the console, creating a row of five Grifs by the Warthog.

"Let me take a look," Simmons said, climbing into the driver's seat. "Maybe I can increase the rate of fire."

Sarge nodded as Simmons drove to the other side of the room. "And maybe Lopez can find a way to spawn Grifs faster."

"¡Hace otras blancos!" Lopez yelled. (It makes other things!)

"Guys, seriously," the real Grif called. "I know I saw something." He approached the line of his doubles and took a closer look. "Aha! See? This one is weird. It's all lightish-red instead of orange."

"No Grif," Sarge called out without looking. "I'm sure it isn't."

"You're probably still hallucinating from the charge you took," Simmons agreed as he checked the power cells.

"Yeah, I don't think so. _Look!_" Grif pointed at one end of the line.

"Grif, we are busy!" Sarge bellowed. "You and Donut shut up and stop distracting us!"

"But I-" Grif stopped and whirled round to stare at the figure. "_Donut?!_"

At once, the pink figure stumbled forward. "Water…"

"AH!" Grif yelped. "Donut?!"

"Donut?" Simmons gasped, looking up from his work.

"Water…" Donut panted again.

"Donut, where the hell did you come from?" Grif cried.

"Water…" Donut groaned, falling to his knees.

"You came from the water?" Grif asked puzzled. "I didn't even know you could swim."

"Grif… he needs help," Donut muttered. "It's under… the sand… _find him_…" Then he slumped forward onto the ground.

"Oh boy," Grif sighed. "_That_ sounds like something that's gonna keep us busy for a few months."

At that moment, Sarge and Simmons came running up and were amazed at seeing the pink private.

"Holy mamma mia," Sarge gasped. "Donut! Where's he been?"

"Donut!" Simmons knelt next to his teammate and checked him over. "Grif, what did he say?"

"Who, him?" Grif asked. "Oh, uh, he just said he wanted some water."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, uh just the water thing… Oh, also that he really missed everyone."

Sarge frowned. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Um, he also said that he liked the new jeep," Grif added.

"Hot damn," Sarge beamed. "I always knew that kid had style."

* * *

**And there we go; a few mysteries to ponder over the Christmas holidays. Here's a recap:**

**Will Donut be able to recover and give his message? Will Sarge's new designs for the jeep be successful? And what is Caboose up to in the Blue Base? There are a few other questions but I don't want to spoil it.**

**Anyway, I will be away for the holidays, but I will be back next month to post the next part of the Recollections Trilogy. Until then, have a very Merry Christmas and an especially Happy New Year.**


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